


Go Slowly, My Heart, Go Slowly

by AssessTheSituation



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hugh | Third of Five Lives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:02:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23663572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssessTheSituation/pseuds/AssessTheSituation
Summary: Elnor looks, and he knows he should not, but he cannot help himself, for Hugh...Hugh is the Moon.
Relationships: Elnor/Hugh | Third of Five
Comments: 45
Kudos: 98





	Go Slowly, My Heart, Go Slowly

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy was Star Trek Picard just the worst. The writing was awful, and fun things like "character development" weren't even an after-thought. Poor Elnor probably got it the worst depth-wise, and Hugh was the one that died. I've never been more inspired to write in a fandom I'm so frustrated with. So this is a culmination of wanting more character interactions with the characters, and throwing a romance into the mix because it's fun.
> 
> Written as one complete part, because I have a terrible habit of not finishing fics when the source material starts to take a nose-dive.
> 
> Please let me know what you think.

Elnor looks. He knows he shouldn't, has told himself many times to stop, but still he finds his eyes slowly making their way to a certain table across the small room that is considered the mess hall of the _La Sirena_.  
  
Elnor sits in a corner- back to the wall, the only entrance into the room within his line of sight- and has the perfect view of everyone in the mess. He sits under folded legs, his sword in his lap as his attention is inevitably drawn away from the dutiful polishing of steel.  
  
His gaze flits from table to table. As usual, Captain Rios sits with Dr. Jurati. They have become close, and Dr. Jurati speaks to him animatedly, her face alight and words impassioned, waving around her fork that has had the same piece of food on it for the past ten minutes. Captain Rios smiles at her with his one of his books in hand and with what Elnor now knows is called a cigar between his lips. There is a pause where Dr. Jurati takes a breath and brings her fork up to her mouth before Captain Rios comments on something she said and Dr. Jurati continues, her food once again forgotten.  
  
Raffi is by herself, but in front of her is a holo-display. Her fingers skim through numbers and letters in dozens of languages Elnor doesn't understand in rapid, impatient motions. She has no food, Elnor rarely sees her eat when she works, but her customary glass of alcohol remains fixed in her other hand. It's her fourth one so far.  
  
Picard and Soji are across one another with a chessboard between them. Elnor remembers Picard teaching him the game when he was younger, and how in his youth he believed it would be simple to beat Picard once he understood how it worked- a young Elnor's mistake in the preconceived notion that Picard's age would be a simple enough thing to defeat when it was anything but. And, synthetic or not, from where Elnor can see the progress of their match, it looks as if Soji too was lead into a false sense of security. Elnor had never won a game in the brief time spent with Picard, and he can tell that Soji isn't going to win this one either.  
  
Eventually, there is the final table, and Elnor knows he shouldn't look, that he has looked so many times and to do so again would be obvious, wouldn't it? It would be better to continue cleaning his sword that to even the untrained eye is clearly well past clean, but he can think of no other excuse to remain, to remain and _look_.  
  
He needs to stop looking, but he cannot help himself, and so he gives in.  
  
His eyes drift carefully towards the final two. He moves past hair that gleams like gold and falls in waves and waits until she tosses it back over her shoulder, and for a brief moment his view is unobstructed.  
  
Elnor catches the fainest glimpse of a blue prosthetic eye awash in a momentary shower of gilded strands before the hair settles and Elnor forces himself to look away.  
  
He keeps his eyes down and his grip tightens on the handle of his sword. A small part of Elnor wishes Seven of Nine were not at the table, so that he may look uninhibited.  
  
Another part of Elnor, not as small as he would like, wishes she were not on the ship at all.  
  
He is very ashamed of that part.  
  
Seven is the reason they took back control of the Borg cube, the reason they made if off whole and hale. Were it not for her, transporting in at the last moment, Elnor could have lost his Bonded to an honorless Zhat Vash agent with a hidden knife and quick hand.  
  
It is a cold feeling to think of what could have been. What almost was.  
  
After they returned to the _La Sirena_ \- the Borg cube moved, hidden near an uninhabited world- Seven decided to stay with them for the time being.  
  
"Someone will have to keep you out of trouble," she had said, and the rest of the crew had welcomed her.  
  
That was a couple weeks ago. The search for Soji's homeworld continues, but the need to evade the Zhat Vash makes it a slow going process. Elnor can tell it frustrates Soji, but he believes this is the correct strategy- better to be cautious and ensure they aren't followed, than rash and unknowingly lead their enemies right to the world with two red moons, wherever it happens to be.  
  
It makes sense then, that with all this time, those comfortable with each other spend their time together.  
  
So naturally, it makes sense, when on a ship where he only knows so few, Hugh would choose to spend his time with Seven of Nine.  
  
It shouldn't bother Elnor. Of course they would seek out each others company. They knew one another well before the Artifact and the Fenris Rangers and the La Sirena.  
  
Hugh is friends with Seven. Friends spend time together. Eat meals together. Sit together.  
  
It shouldn't bother Elnor, but it still does.  
  
Elnor sees his reflection frowning in the mirrored steel of his sword. He avoids it by looking back at Hugh and Seven.  
  
He really should stop.  
  
They are complementary, he thinks. Not just as ex-Borg, but in themselves. Light and dark.  
  
Despite her cool demeanor, Elnor sees Seven as the Sun- bright and golden, powerful and unyielding, her eyes as sharp as any blade. The Sun is a beautiful thing, yet it can take life as quickly as it can give it. Vashti is a planet that is mostly desert, and soon after the Federation's aid had stopped, energy supplies for replicators became strictly regulated, and for a while, water became scarce. Vashti's Sun had taken many people that season, and Elnor learned quickly to respect it.  
  
But, where Seven is fire and blinding light, Hugh...  
  
Hugh is the Moon. Hugh is the Night.  
  
The Moon is a gentle reflection of the Sun. Lovely, and unlike the Sun, it does not punish one to look upon it. The Moon brings light to the Night, so that the Night is not so greatly feared. Elnor remembers being terrified of the Night, waking up in the dark as a child, afraid that Vashti, like Romulus, had lost it's Sun.  
  
But the Moon was there, and the Night was simply the Moon's embrace. Elnor learned to welcome the reprieve the Moon gave from the Sun, as the Moon could afford to be kind where the Sun could not.  
  
From over Seven's shoulder, Elnor sees Hugh smile at something she must have said. He often smiles at Seven.  
  
A tight feeling coils in his gut, sickly and sharp. Elnor is familiar with this feeling, has felt it more often than he cares to admit.  
  
It was there all throughout his childhood. A single, unwanted boy in a class of carefully selected girls training in the hopes of becoming Qowat Milat warriors. The nuns endowing his sisters each the special attention they needed, but unable to give him the same as he could never truly _be_ Qowat Milat.  
  
It did not matter how hard he practiced, how long he trained. The nuns would smile and offer encouragement, but no matter how kind they were to him, or how much they might have wanted to accept him, they couldn't.  
  
Elnor would never be enough, and every time one of his sisters perfected the same forms, mastered the same weapons, and eventually became recognized as a full-fledged Qowat Milat warrior, the coil deep inside Elnor would tighten.  
  
Envy was a difficult thing, so very much like a snake that threatened to ensnare and squeeze until all that was left was venom and bitterness.  
  
Elnor was very familiar with envy.  
  
But he loved his sisters, and he loved the nuns, and he knows they loved him too. His envy of them was put to rest, buried in the sands of Vashti, and Elnor thought that by binding his sword to Picard as a true warrior would, his envy would stay there.  
  
He supposes it did, because the envy he now feels is new and Elnor is not sure how to handle this particular serpent, so dangerous as it brushes close to his heart.  
  
He should not feel this way. He has known the rest of the crew longer than he has known Hugh.  
  
And yet...  
  
And yet, Elnor had seen Hugh on the Artifact. The bravery in spite of fear, the hardened determination behind gentle eyes, the unwavering hope in a hopeless cause.  
  
There was no question as to who Elnor would bind his sword to after Picard released him.  
  
Elnor should want nothing more than to protect Hugh, to see him through safely to the end of his quest, even now that it is a quest shared by all.  
  
But as Elnor sits in his corner, away from them all, he _looks_ , and he _wants_ , and he does not know what to do about it aside from somehow making himself _stop_.  
  
How can he stop wanting if he cannot even stop looking?  
  
Suddenly, Elnor feels the prickling sensation of eyes on him and follows it to Picard's table. Elnor sees Picard's hands move over the chessboard as he resets the pieces, righting Soji's fallen Queen, while Soji's focus is distressingly on him.  
  
Soji's eyes are strange to Elnor in the way that they are clear, almost without color. He is not afraid of them, certainly not of her, but there is dread at the base of his neck as those eyes look from him, to Hugh and Seven's table, then return to him, calculating.  
  
She's noticed his looking.  
  
Elnor re-sheathes his sword and stands, as the time to leave was long past. He does not look at dark hair he wishes to touch, does not look at scars he wishes to understand, and absolutely does not look at eyes he wishes to know as he leaves the mess hall.  
  
He pretends he doesn't notice Soji as she gives a final glance to the table. He pretends he doesn't notice her as she finds what he was looking for, realizing that despite the brilliance of the Sun, he longed for the Moon. He pretends he doesn't notice her as her gaze snaps back to him, a puzzle solved.  
  
Because Elnor can deal with envy, but he refuses to be given pity, and it is easier to pretend he doesn't see it.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Later, Elnor meditates in the safety of his small room. Hopefully, clearing his mind and resting his body with give him the strength his resolve needs.  
  
If only a gentle face and delicate smile were not there to greet him every time he closes his eyes.  
  
His door chimes, and Elnor opens an eye. He does not wish to be disturbed, but then again, he is so rarely sought after that it could be for something important.  
  
"You may enter," he says. The door opens, and on the other side of it is Soji.  
  
It is tempting to remain silent, seated in the middle of his cot, so that Soji might understand that Elnor does not want her here. But Soji takes a step inside so that the door closes behind her, and Elnor knows she will not leave until she says whatever she has come to say.  
  
There is a moment of silence between them.  
  
Soji clears her throat. "Hey, Elnor."  
  
He inclines his head, tries not to think of what she must have seen earlier, and does his best to meet her eyes.  
  
"Soji."  
  
"Look, I..." she picks at the sleeve of her shirt, "I just wanted to say, about earlier... in the mess hall-"  
  
Elnor isn't ready for this.  
  
"There is nothing to say." He would rather deny everything, but he cannot bring himself to lie. To lie would be to admit there is shame, and he will not sully his feelings in regards to Hugh with shame.  
  
"Well, no, but," she stops, then sighs. "Look, I'm... I'm not going to tell anyone, alright? I just wanted to make sure you know that."  
  
Elnor feels the soothing hand of relief. He'd hardly had time to work through the fear of being discovered, much less of what would happen if his secret was shared. This is a kindness that Soji offers him, and he is grateful. "Thank you."  
  
She smiles, but then it turns sad. "I know what it's like, to feel something for someone you probably shouldn't."  
  
A deep pain shadows her words. Elnor doesn't know much of what happened to Soji on the Borg cube, but she had been attacked, her life put in danger, and now she guards trust close to her chest, everyone else kept at a safe distance.  
  
He doesn't know, but he can guess, and his heart goes out to her.  
  
"It is difficult," he confesses. "I'm not sure what to do."  
  
Soji's wraps her arms around herself and shrugs. "I don't think anyone does when it comes to things like that."  
  
Elnor nods, and there is silence between them again. It is not uncomfortable, but for the first time, Elnor thinks that Soji may, much like he, like the company of a friend. He wishes he had more to offer than just himself.  
  
"Would you like to join me?" He gestures to the foot of his cot where there is just enough room for another to sit.  
  
"To meditate?" Soji says the word with some measure of disdain.  
  
"Not if you do not want to," a half-smile pulls at Elnor's mouth. "In honesty, I'm not very good at meditating. I usually sit down, close my eyes, and wait. The nuns could always tell."  
  
Soji makes an amused sound. "I won't bother you?"  
  
Elnor shakes his head and Soji sits. She doesn't cross her legs or close her eyes, but she does stay.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
"That idea is just terrible enough to be one of yours, Chris."  
  
Captain Rios responds to Raffi's comments with a false smile. It's something Elnor notices he does often. Would it not be easier to just tell Raffi he is unhappy with certain things she says to him?  
  
Elnor supposes it doesn't matter. Raffi gives Rios just as many not-smiles as he gives her. He's learned it's one of the many strange ways they communicate.  
  
"Well if you got any better ideas Raffi, I'd love to hear them." Rios leans against his chair and pulls a cigar from a pouch on his hip.  
  
Raffi turns to Picard, who answers with nothing but a small turn of his hand. She grimaces, clearly unhappy, from her place at navigation. "Going to Cive is a bad idea."  
  
Rios just lights his cigar and inhales the smoke. Elnor's nose wrinkles. He can already smell it from where he stands at the entrance to the bridge.  
  
The doors next to him open and Seven of Nine and Hugh enter. Elnor keeps his eyes on the burning end of the cigar.  
  
Still, a voice speaks next to him.  
  
"What did we miss?"  
  
Elnor turns his head. Seven of Nine continues over towards the others, but Hugh stands next to him.  
  
Something inside Elnor breathes. "They are still arguing over where to get fuel for the ship."  
  
Hugh smiles, amused, as if he excepted that to be the answer.  
  
"But I do not understand," and Elnor is only confident to ask because Hugh is never condescending to him. Never treats Elnor's questions as if they are a chore to answer, as many of the crew of the _La Sirena_ tend to do. "If dilithium is available on most colonized worlds, why do we not go to any one of them?"  
  
"Larger starships, such as galaxy-classes, have the equipment to extract power from most dilithium, even crude crystals," Hugh explains. "But the _La Sirena_ is a small ship, and for the wrap-core to function, needs a very specific refinement of dilithium."  
  
"Using regular dilithium crystals would work for other ships, but not for us. It would damage the _La Sirena_?"  
  
Hugh nods. "Correct. We would run the risk of the crystals fusing to the assembly, which would prevent us from using warp."  
  
"Then I fail to see why there is arguing," Elnor sighs and crosses his arms. "If we can only use a certain type of dilithium, and it is only in certain places, then we have little choice but to go."  
  
"A wise summation of facts." Hugh says to him, and Elnor tries his very best not to flush at the complement.  
  
"Cive is too close to the neutral zone," Elnor hears Raffi say, "If we go there we're going to brush right up against the Tal Shiar and Zhat Vash, not to mention anyone else in their pockets or on their payroll."  
  
"Look, my guy on Cive, he's good for it."  
  
Raffi scoffs. "Your guy? You mean Ulaschren th'Teche?" She pulls up a holo-display with a flick of her wrist and an image of an Andorian appears. "Schren has dozens of felonies against the Federation attached to his name. He'll sell us out before we hit orbit."  
  
Elnor can see how that would make things difficult.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Rios pushes himself off his chair. "I know you don't believe what you can't dig up from network code, but I know Schren. He's a bastard, but the one thing he hates more than Starfleet or the Federation are Romulans."  
  
"So he'll help us?" Picard asks, quick to the point.  
  
"Yeah," Rios says. "It'll come with a pretty price tag, but given the chance to stick one to the Romulan Star Empire, he'll help us."  
  
"Then that settles it. We go to Cive." Picard's voice comes clear. It does not ease all the tension, but it does put an end to the discussion. Raffi still looks displeased, but she swivels in her seat to the navigation controls, muttering things under her breath that Elnor thinks only he can hear due to his Romulan ears.  
  
Hugh shakes his head and looks over at Elnor with a small, mirthful expression despite the uncomfortable air in front of them, sharing something with him Elnor yearns to unfold. Instead, Elnor can only smile back.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Elnor stands by Hugh as they wait on the transporter pad for Captain Rios. Soji is not allowed to beam down to the moon with the risk of the Zhat Vash discovering her too great. He knows it bothers her, being confined to a single space, no ground or sky to greet. It bothers Elnor too.  
  
Perhaps the next planet they stop at will allow Soji the freedom she needs.  
  
Picard, at least, is staying with her. Agreeing with Captain Rios that his face is too recognizable as Federation, and that it would be best to remain safely on the ship rather than on a trader moon where many may not appreciate that he is there.  
  
"Alright, details have been smoothed over so let's get going." Rios and Raffi step in, while Seven goes over to the transporter controls.  
  
"Hold up." Rios glances at him and points. "What are you doing?"  
  
Elnor isn't sure he understands the question. "Waiting to transport to Cive?"  
  
"Uh, no you're not. What part of 'Schren doesn't like Romulans' did you miss?" Rios jerks with his thumb. "Hop off the pad."  
  
Elnor doesn't move. "I do not care what Schren likes. My sword is bound to Hugh. If Hugh goes down to the planet, I go with him."  
  
"Seriously, kid?"  
  
Elnor bites down the irritation that flares at being referred to as a child. "Yes."  
  
"Fine, simple fix," Rios looks to Seven, "Seven, you and Hugh switch places."  
  
"No." Seven says.  
  
"Come again?"  
  
"I have had run-ins with Schren while doing work for the Rangers." Seven of Nine glances up at Rios. The light of the controls make her eyes glow. "He attempted various heists on multiple supply freighters within the Qiris sector. While he may not know my face, my presence would nonetheless present an unnecessary risk. Hugh will have to be the one to go down with you to confirm the authenticity of the dilithium."  
  
Rios grinds his teeth. "You couldn't have mentioned this before?"  
  
Seven raises an eyebrow. "It wasn't relevant before. I wasn't the one beaming down to the moon."  
  
Elnor can't help the small bit of satisfaction when Rios rubs his hand over his face.  
  
Until he turns to Hugh.  
  
"He can't come." The tone leaves little room for argument.  
  
Although he is not very good at it, Elnor keeps his face blank as Hugh looks to him. Elnor does not like the doubt that sneaks up in the back of his mind. Would Hugh tell him to stay, despite his oath?  
  
It lasts but a moment, and Hugh turns back to Rios.  
  
"Don't you think it would be better, Captain Rios, to have backup in case things don't go the way you planned?" Hugh asks, "I don't know about you, but I'm not much of a fighter."  
  
Elnor beams.  
  
Rios throws his hands up in frustration. " _Oh Dios mio_ , fine! Let's just go. Schren doesn't like when people are late."  
  
Raffi and Rios steps onto the transporter pad and Seven inputs their coordinates.  
  
"You're cute, kid," Rios grumbles as the hum of the transporter starts, "Let's hope you're cute enough for Schren to overlook the ears."  
  
Stars fill Elnor's vision and then they are not on the _La Sirena_ anymore.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
A group of guards is there to meet them as they materialize in the middle of an empty but extravagant room. Elnor barely has time to take in all the silk and plush furniture before he has to subtly shift his body to shield Hugh as he eyes the four disruptors pointing at them.  
  
Apparently undaunted, Rios shows his hands and greets the leader of the group- a Gorn. Elnor has never seen one in person before.  
  
It is large, very large, at nearly half a foot taller then the captain. Shiny green scales line it's body like the smooth stones Elnor used to find at the bottom of the river when he was a child. Ember-colored eyes watch them carefully, and though it holds a disruptor on them, it's claws look far deadlier  
  
"Giln." Rios says with a toothy smile. Elnor can sense the unease under the confidence.  
  
"Rios." Giln's voice is a deep rumble, like rocks rolling down a mountain. He motions with his disruptor towards a staircase. "That way. Schren expects you."  
  
The guards move to herd them, but Elnor pauses. "Do you not want our weapons?" Because surely a man who is a criminal would not allow four possibly armed strangers so close to him. While Hugh carries nothing, Elnor knows Captain Rios has a phaser at his side and Raffi has one hidden in the give of her boot. Elnor's sword itself obvious enough on his back.  
  
Giln smiles with rows and rows of sharp teeth. "Your weapons would not change anything."  
  
That is unlikely. Elnor's skill with his sword is not something to be taken so lightly, but Rios makes a gesture with his hand along his throat- Elnor has learned that means to stop talking. So he says nothing.  
  
They are lead up the staircase onto a second floor. Somehow it is even more fanciful than the room before it. Color. So much color that it hurts to look at any one spot for too long. Velvet cushions in reds and violets. Tapestries in emerald greens and golds. The floor a mosaic of black and white.  
  
At the end of the room is a large couch, and upon it sits the Andorian Elnor recognizes from Raffi's holo-display.  
  
As they near, Ulaschren th'Teche stands and smiles. He is tall and his teeth are as blue as his skin. His expression appears friendly enough, but the way it doesn't reach his eyes sets Elnor on edge.  
  
Giln stops them with a sudden hand to Rios' chest. Admirably, the captain stops himself stumbling back from the force.  
  
"Cristobal Rios!" Schren opens his arms wide and grabs hold of Rios' shoulders. "Last I saw you you were transporting stim-packs to outer words! To what do I owe the pleasure?"  
  
"Man's gotta pay his bills, Schren." Rios says. "Sometimes paying those bills means the Tal Shiar don't like you very much."  
  
Schren grins, and it reminds Elnor of tar. "Making friends like usual, Cristobal?"  
  
"So many I can't keep up with them all."  
  
The antennae atop Schren's head twitch. "More like can't keep away from them all, if your messages are true. Speaking of..."  
  
Schren turns to Elnor, his disgust plain even with his false smile.  
  
"What is _that_ doing here?" Schren does not look away from Elnor as he asks this, but Elnor knows the question is not for him. "Awfully bold of you to bring a green-blood into my place of business, Cristobal."  
  
"Don't worry about him, Schren, he's just hired muscle." Rios makes a vague gesture with his hand. "He's one of those, you know, Quan Milot warriors."  
  
"Qowat Milat." Elnor corrects.  
  
"Really?" Schren moves in close. His face is mere inches from Elnor's, and he looks upon Elnor like he is a worm not fit for dirt, but there is a hint of intrigue in his voice. "I thought Qowat Milat were only female."  
  
Schren says it with the same tone Elnor has heard his entire life. The tone those use when they have heard of Qowat Milat and see Elnor. It is the same tone that compels Elnor to draw his sword and remove the tongue of the speaker so that it is never said in such a away again.  
  
But the Qowat Milat do not strike out in anger. They are protectors, and Elnor has not sworn an oath to his own pride.  
  
"Point is," interrupts Rios, "is that the kid is about as far from a Romulan as a Romulan can be before being a Vulcan, so lay off, Schren, we've got a deal to get to."  
  
Blue lips curl into a cruel sneer, but Schren steps away.  
  
It was hardly worse than some of the treatment from the drunks on Vashti, so Elnor cares not for what Schren says to him, no matter how ugly his voice or angry his eyes. But then Schren notices Hugh.  
  
The change is immediate. From open hostility to something... predatory. Schren acts if there are no others in the room. His eyes slide up Hugh's body at a leisurely pace, all sense of decency forgone. Elnor wants him to stop. Someone such as Schren should not look at Hugh as though he intends to devour him.  
  
"Hello," the spaces between Schren's word are black and slippery, "Cristobal, you've been holding out on me. You didn't have this treasure on your crew last we met."  
  
Captain Rios coughs. "Crews change, Schren."  
  
The blunt ends of fingernails bite into Elnor's palm as Schren continues to walk the gap between himself and Hugh. Hugh, somehow, remains outwardly unbothered, his face politely neutral.  
  
"I haven't had many opportunities to meet a liberated Borg," the eelsnake advances, fangs dripping. "I must say, I find your... _implants_ exceptionally enticing."  
  
"Thank you," Hugh replies mildly. "But I prefer my _implants_ right where they are."  
  
Schren chuckles and manages to sound genuine. "You misunderstand. I'm not one of those pitiful scavengers pillaging flesh for cortical nodes and neural transceivers. I don't pretend to be a good man, but I find such practices to be distasteful."  
  
"How forward-thinking of you." Hugh says and Schren smirks. Elnor's blood rushes under his skin, threatening to boil over. Hugh needs to step away. He needs to put as much distance, any distance, between him and the beast that looms over him.  
  
"Hmmm," Like he has a secret, Schren brings a finger up to his lips. "What can I say? I prefer my Borg parts and all." Schren moves the hand away from his face and reaches across the few precious inches towards Hugh's own, "Why, the only place your implants could possibly look even better than on you face, would among a very expensive expanse of Rigellian satin-"  
  
Elnor reacts before he thinks.  
  
He isn't aware he had done anything, and yet his sword is against Schren's neck, glimmering against an artery that would kill the Andorian instantly if cut. Almost immediately, the heat of a disruptor digs into his back. Not that it would matter. Schren's head would fall before the guard could pull the trigger.  
  
Rios and Raffi catch up to the moment just after the guards do.  
  
"Elnor what the _hell_ are you doing?!"  
  
"Kid, put the _goddamn_ sword down!"  
  
Elnor hears them, but he cannot see them. He has eyes only for the back of Schren's head, his vision narrowed to where steel meets blue skin and the whisper of a pulse. How dare he? How dare this criminal try to touch Elnor's Bonded? How dare he think himself worthy enough of the Moon?  
  
Schren, for his part, does not move, save for a slight twitch of his left antenna.  
  
Cold-fire burns through Elnor. "You will _not_ touch him."  
  
Another twitch, and Schren very slowly, very carefully, turns his head to look back at Elnor.  
  
"Oh?" he says with the confidence of a man without a blade to his throat. "And would you kill me, green-blood, for such an offense?"  
  
Yes. For every star there is in the sky, the answer would be yes. Elnor's sword would bathe in blue and a part of him would be glad for it.  
  
"... Elnor?" Hugh's voice reaches him. With Schren turned, Elnor can see Hugh's face. The brown and blue eye, the tilt of his mouth. There is shock. Confusion. Worry.  
  
Elnor is doing this to Hugh. He needs to breath, even if the air feels like ice. "If you know anything of the Qowat Milat, you know we are resolute to our oaths. My sword is bound to him. If he is in danger, I will do whatever I can to protect him, be that with my life or yours."  
  
Schren stares at him. "Is he worth the inferno that will descend around your pointy little ears if you follow through on that threat?"  
  
"Yes." Any other answer would be denial to oneself.  
  
They glare at one another for a long time. The only sounds are the the whirring static of powered disruptors.  
  
Without warning, Schren throws his head back and laughs. Elnor hopes he doesn't look as confused as he feels.  
  
"You're right, Cristobal," Schren wipes tears from his face, "he is as far from a Romulan as a Romulan can possibly be- Oh, put those down!" he commands his guards, and the disruptor at Elnor's back disappears. Schren turns to face Elnor fully, and this time there is a lack of revulsion. "He's an _honest_ Romulan. I never thought I'd live to see the day."  
  
Elnor isn't sure what to do until Raffi jabs him in the ribs with her elbow. She motions to his sword with wide eyes, and he begrudgingly lowers it.  
  
Schren gives a final nod to Hugh, his gaze now at a respectable level. "I apologize. I had no idea your honor was so fiercely sworn to." He says with a wink, and there isn't time to wonder what Schren means by it before he claps twice and addresses the room.  
  
"Alright! Cristobal, I believe you were about to give me a lot of money for a few pretty rocks?"  
  
The hostility in the room lasts the entire time they are there. Captain Rios and Schren negotiate in the background, but the guards keep their hands on their disruptors and their eyes on Elnor.  
  
Elnor keeps his eyes on one of the tapestries on the wall. He is not ashamed of what he did. Even if Raffi and Rios are upset with his actions, he protected Hugh as he is supposed to do. But Hugh still looks at him, uncertain, and Elnor doesn't know what that means, but it makes him feel foolish.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
They return to the _La Sirena_ , dilithium in hand. Picard, Soji, Dr. Jurati and Seven are there waiting for them. Elnor moves to step off the transporter pad, the thought of going straight to his room very appealing, but Rios stops him.  
  
"What the hell was that back there?" Rios hisses in his face. "Were you trying to get someone killed?!"  
  
Elnor rears back. "Of course not-"  
  
"You sure?" Rios cuts him off. "Because threatening to cut off a man's head in a room full of his security sounds like a great way to do it!"  
  
"Wait, what happened?" Dr. Jurati asks, looking between them all.  
  
"Boy Wonder decided Schren was getting a little friendly." Raffi shoves past. "I need a drink."  
  
And everyone speaks up at once.  
  
"Is everyone okay?"  
  
"Ye-"  
  
"Did you kill Schren?"  
  
"No-"  
  
"Elnor, what happened?"  
  
"I-"  
  
"What did Schren do?"  
  
"H-"  
  
"Nothing worth doing something so stupid over." Rios says _and will no one let him speak_?  
  
"Listen," Rios stands as if to look down at Elnor, despite them being of similar height. It is insulting.  
  
"Schren's a creep and he likes to throw his weight around, but Hugh's a big boy and he can deal with a handsy Andorian without you coming in sword swinging." Elnor bites his tongue. Captain Rios doesn't know. He doesn't understand. "I don't know what it's like in Sacred Warrior Land, but out here in the real world sometimes you gotta deal with people you don't like when they have something you need."  
  
"Rios," Picard steps in, "the Qowat Milat govern themselves by a moral code-"  
  
"Real easy for you to say, Picard. That "moral code" got a disruptor shoved in my face. Good luck finishing your mission with half the crew dead."  
  
"Elnor just doesn't know any better..."  
  
Picard and Rios drown themselves out. That's how it always is, the same conclusion everyone arrives at: poor, stupid Elnor. Don't bother explaining things, he won't understand. Speak to him slowly so he doesn't get confused. He doesn't do things the way we do them, so he must be wrong.  
  
Everyone treats him as if he's simple, whether they mean to or not. It is hurtful in a way that makes him angry. He tries, very hard, to speak with them, but because he's just poor, stupid Elnor, they act like he is incapable. And now, they talk over him like he isn't there.  
  
"He's a kid-"  
  
"I am not a child!"  
  
Whatever Rios was going to finish dies in his throat and everyone else falls silent.  
  
"I am not a child," Elnor repeats, because while they may hear him, they do not listen. "I am Qowat Milat, raised in the Way of Absolute Candor. I have bound my sword to Hugh, to his cause, and so it is my duty to protect him. I will apologize for how I acted, Captain Rios, but I will not apologize for acting."  
  
"Elnor," Hugh is the one to break the silence. His voice is gentle, placating. Surely, Hugh would be the one to understand. "I appreciate your loyalty, but..."  
  
But?  
  
"... Do you think you might be interpreting certain aspects of it incorrectly?"  
  
Elnor's heart, already so fragile within the serpent's grasp, cracks.  
  
Of everyone, Hugh was the one who never saw Elnor as less. Or, at least, that was what Elnor had thought. What he had hoped. Hugh, who gave knowledge as freely as Elnor asked, and always seemed interested in what little Elnor could share in return. Hugh, who spoke to Elnor as he did with Picard, or Captain Rios, or Seven of Nine. Hugh, who treated Elnor like an equal.  
  
But they are not equals. It is clear now. A fact Elnor has been ignoring. Because Hugh stands there and asks if Elnor understands his own way of life. He doubts Elnor, and it hurts like nothing Elnor has ever felt before.  
  
Tears sting behind his eyes. Elnor refuses to let them fall. He is not a child.  
  
"The last time I allowed an enemy close to you," he looks at Hugh, even though it pulls and twists him inside, "you were nearly killed." Hugh's brow furrows. Maybe he does not remember, or maybe he does not realize.  
  
"On the Borg ship," Elnor continues, wishing he didn't have to. "The Zhat Vash woman. I let her provoke me." _This is not the way Zhat Vash fight the Qowat Milat_ , she had said, and like a fool he had put away his sword.  
  
"She pulled a dagger from her boot." He can still see the faint glint from the low lights of the Artifact. He hadn't know what it was at first- Qowat Milat do not hide their weapons. "And she threw it at you. Had Seven not arrived, the dagger would have struck, and you would have died because of me."  
  
What could have been. What almost was.  
  
Elnor bows low, his words rung out, his eyes burning. He cannot look at Hugh anymore. The pain is too great. "I am sorry you feel I over-reacted."  
  
His voice nearly breaks, and as quickly as he can without fleeing, Elnor leaves.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The _La Sirena_ is a small ship, and so there are few places to hide. But within the first days aboard, Elnor had found a small section with a framed bulkhead large enough for him to slip through yet not so large as to be easily noticed.  
  
It's where he sits now, the view of the hallway below him. It's quiet, and Elnor is only too thankful for it.  
  
He should not have run away. It was a childish thing to do after claiming he wasn't a child. But it was all too much. Everything inside of him, his thoughts, his feelings, churning violently into a storm, and Elnor is tired of keeping it at bay.  
  
He misses Vashti. It was simpler there, yes, but Elnor knew his place. His days were spent with chores and training, or playing games with his sisters when they thought the nuns weren't looking. His nights were full of familiar stars and a well-worn book following the adventures of D'artagnan and his friends in their fight for justice.  
  
Maybe it is where he belongs. On a small planet in a forgotten corner of space. Where his people were living their lives as best they can. Where he was useful, even wanted. Where the Moon did not seem so impossible to reach.  
  
Elnor sighs and rests his chin on his knees. He should not sulk. If Zani could see him now, she would flick his ears.  
  
Still, it probably wouldn't hurt to stay a while. At least until he is calm enough.  
  
Footsteps echo off the metal walls of the hall. Elnor draws himself closer as they come near. He hopes whoever it is just happens to be walking this way, and will pass under him nonethewiser. He doesn't think he can talk to anyone.  
  
The footsteps slow, and Elnor feels very small when Hugh walks into view. One of the lights in the area is broken, so Elnor knows he is shadowed from above, but he also knows with the prosthetic eye, Hugh can see things many cannot. It is very possible Hugh can see in the dark.  
  
"I was hoping you might want to talk?" Elnor's guess proves right as Hugh speaks in Elnor's general direction. "But I understand if you want to be left alone."  
  
Elnor always wants to talk with Hugh, always, but he isn't sure what more he can say.  
  
"It's alright," Hugh says. "I'll wait, if you don't mind."  
  
And Hugh does. He stands, hands resting in front of him, unusually still- it reminds Elnor of a statue, and he wonders if it is reminiscent of the Borg.  
  
Watching the top of Hugh's head from his alcove above, Elnor waits for Hugh to realize he is wasting his time, that Elnor isn't worth it. He waits for an impatient sigh, an irritated word, and for Hugh to leave.  
  
After fifteen minutes, Hugh is still there. No more sign that he wants to leave than before.  
  
Eventually, the guilt for being the reason Hugh has stood there so long wins out, and Elnor drops down next to him.  
  
Hugh startles, just a little, and gives Elnor a tentative smile. "Hello, Elnor."  
  
Elnor cannot bring himself to smile when he isn't happy, so he looks away.  
  
"I wanted to apologize." Hugh says. Elnor wasn't expecting that. He dares to glance back at Hugh, and now Hugh looks away, his eyes trained on a spot off to his right.  
  
"I upset you," Hugh states regretfully, "I made an assumption, and I shouldn't have."  
  
Elnor wants to deny it, just so Hugh would not look so sad, but it is the truth, so he merely nods.  
  
"When... when I was Borg," Hugh finally says, gripping his hands together tightly, "to learn was to assimilate. All Borg are connected to each other, all are the Collective. What one Borg knows, all know. I know so much."  
  
Hugh meets Elnor's eyes, and on his face are lingering traces of sorrow. "It's been nearly twenty years, and I still have to remind myself that there are entire worlds full of people and cultures that I know nothing about."  
  
"You cannot expect to know everything," Elnor says quietly, "It would be impossible."  
  
Hugh chuckles. "True. But I could start by asking. I don't know much about the Qowat Milat, and I didn't realize how much of what happened on the Artifact had affected you."  
  
"It is a shame I live with." Elnor admits, and oh, does it ache to do so. "When I bound myself to your cause, I took an oath to keep you safe, and I failed."  
  
Hugh touches his arm. "I'm still here. You protected me, you didn't fail."  
  
"Seven protected you."  
  
"Yes, she did," Hugh agrees after a moment, "but Seven wasn't there after Narissa-" he pauses, swallows thickly, "after what happened."  
  
Elnor thinks of the bodies of Hugh's patients, his people, killed for no reason other than a cruel show of power. Narissa's words laying the blame at Hugh's feet when it was by her order and her's alone.  
  
"That is... I did not do anything." Hugh had been surrounded by death, but his life had not been in danger at the time. Fear of retaliation from the Federation stayed Narissa's hand.  
  
Hugh shakes his head softly and the hand that touches Elnor's forearm squeezes. "Trust me. If you hadn't given me the strength, I wouldn't have gotten back up."  
  
Elnor frowns. "It's not the same."  
  
"To me it is." And Hugh says it with such certainty Elnor has to concede.  
  
"Regardless," Elnor promises, "I made mistakes that I will not make again."  
  
Hugh tilts his head. "Is that what happened with Schren?"  
  
Elnor resists the urge to move away. He likes Hugh's hand on his arm too much. "He could have had a weapon, and I let him get close enough to touch you. I know I put the mission at risk. I am sorry."  
  
"What's done is done. We have the dilithium, and no one was hurt, and... I understand a bit better now, I think." Hugh says, and it is a comfort. But...  
  
"But," He forces himself to continue, because Hugh deserves truth, "there is more..." Hugh looks up at him, patient. "The way he was acting. It was inappropriate."  
  
Elnor wills himself not to blush. It is not his whole truth, but it is a truth. Hugh looks surprised for a moment, then his mouth curves into a warm smile.  
  
"It was," Hugh says, and his thumb makes small circles along the wrappings of Elnor's arm. "But Captain Rios, even if I don't agree with his reaction, is right; sometimes, especially in our current situation, we unfortunately have to put up with certain behaviors."  
  
"It should not be that way," Elnor replies a little hotly, "You should not have to subject yourself to unwelcome attention just to get something we were already trading for."  
  
A treacherous thought strikes Elnor suddenly. What if Schren's actions were not as undesired as he initially believed? Hugh had not looked agreeable, not to Elnor, but what did Elnor know, really?  
  
"You're right," Hugh brings Elnor out of the dark cloud of his thoughts. "I suppose I've just gotten used to it."  
  
That is not a comforting thought. "Does what happened with Schren happen to you often?"  
  
Hugh's face turns an pleasant shade of pink and he coughs. "No, no, that's not what I meant." He let's go of Elnor's arm and Elnor misses it immediately. "Being an ex-Borg, I've had to tolerate my share of narrow-mindedness, but I was willing to deal with it, because I knew eventually I'd be in a position to help others like me. I learned it's easier to let some things go."  
  
Braver than he feels, Elnor grabs Hugh's hand. He wants to take the time to admire the callouses he feels, but this was not for him.  
  
"Your kindness and generosity deserve you nothing but respect. It's angers me that others could not see that. You should never have to endure such treatment."  
  
Hugh stares at their joined hands with a strange look. Elnor hopes he has not gone too far, has not revealed too much. "Well, I guess I'm lucky that you're here." Hugh says, almost as if to himself.  
  
It is more, so much more than he thought he would get, but Elnor must ask.  
  
"Am I enough? As Qowat Milat?... As your friend?" He dare not hope for more.  
  
"What? Of _course_ you are," Hugh doesn't hesitate. He places his other hand over Elnor's, and Elnor's heart is full. "Who is supposed to teach me about the Qowat Milat if not my friend?"  
  
Elnor cannot keep the smile from his face. Not that he would want to try.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
It is late, or at least as late as it can be when there is no sun to discern the days. Elnor wipes the sweat from his brow with a towel and enjoys the slight burn threaded through his muscles after an evening practicing his forms. He walks the path to the mess hall with the intent to replicate a glass of water before retiring to his room.  
  
When he arrives, Captain Rios, Dr. Jurati, Raffi, Seven, Soji and Hugh are at a table. "Hey ki- uh, Elnor," Captain Rios greets, and Elnor takes it as an invitation to go over.  
  
"What are you doing?" Elnor asks. He is curious. There are colorful disks in stacks in the middle of the table and he watches as Rios shuffles what must be cards.  
  
"Playing poker," Soji replies. Unfortunately, that does not help. Elnor has no idea what poker is.  
  
"Come join in," Rios says. "More players makes the game more interesting."  
  
"I do not know how to play," He admits, disheartened.  
  
"Well, lucky for you," With an impressive flourish, Captain Rios separates the cards and arches them so they shuffle together seamlessly, "I'm one hell of a poker player. I can teach you everything you need to know."  
  
"Don't believe him," Raffi says, "I've seen that man lose the clothes off his back."  
  
Rios holds up a finger. "First off, that was on Riza, and second, it was strip-poker," he smiles pointedly at Dr. Jurati, "Everybody won that game."  
  
Dr. Jurati smiles behind her hand. Raffi gags.  
  
"Come on," Rios pats the table, "Pull up a chair."  
  
Elnor smiles, pleased for his inclusion. It is kind of them, and he thinks, with what happened a few days ago, they are trying to know him. He moves to take the place between Raffi and Soji, but Seven stands up. "You may have my seat."  
  
She takes the spot, leaving her chair next to Hugh empty. Hugh gives Seven a certain look which Seven returns in kind. It seems to be some sort of silent argument, then Hugh turns away and gives Elnor a reassuring smile.  
  
Elnor still believes it is easier to just talk plainly.  
  
"'Atta boy," Rios claps Elnor on the back as he sits. "So, first things first, you gotta learn how to bluff."  
  
"Oh, come on, Chris," Raffi snorts, "I don't care how good a 'teacher' you are, elf-boy here couldn't bluff his way out of a wet paper bag. No offense," she adds. Elnor is not sure if Raffi does not want him taking offense to "elf-boy" or whatever a "bluff" is.  
  
"You never know," cards pass to each person face-down. "He could be a natural."  
  
Raffi hums into her drink, "And I'm a bright pink klongat."  
  
The rules, Elnor finds, are simple enough, though keeping track of the value of different combinations takes getting used to. The disks are called chips, and the chips represent money, but not real money, and the goal is to have all the chips. Buffing, Rios explains, is simply pretending your cards have a high value when they don't.  
  
Raffi was correct. Elnor is not surprised that he is not good at bluffing, so he does not try. But he enjoys the game anyway. Throughout, Soji glances at him from over the tops of her cards and makes a face, which he tries to match, until one of them grins. Their behavior catches Hugh's attention, because every time they do it, he tries to muffle his own soft laughter. Elnor beings to do it for Hugh as much as Soji.  
  
Rios and Raffi pretend they don't notice, but Dr. Jurati is open in her enjoyment of their fun. As surprised as Elnor is to see it, even Seven gives a small smile of amusement.  
  
Eventually, they are on their final round, and Elnor shows his hand. Captain Rios looks at the cards in dismay. "I don't believe it."  
  
"It's impossible." Raffi says.  
  
"Statistically unlikely, but not impossible," Seven corrects.  
  
"I have won the game?" Elnor ventures. The only one's left with chips are himself and Rios. Rios shakes his head in disbelief, but his smile is not one of his false smiles.  
  
"Don't ask me how, but yeah, you won." He pushes all his chips over to Elnor's pile. "Next time a part decides to fall of my ship, you and me are hitting the dabo tables. Sometimes it's better to be lucky than good."  
  
Elnor smiles well and true, even though he does not know what dabo is. "Now what happens?"  
  
"Well," Rios collects the cards, "if this were a real game with real money, you'd cash in your chips for credits and spend it on whatever catches your fancy."  
  
"Oh," Elnor can see the appeal, but Qowat Milat have very little need for money. Possessions are few and very personal. There is only one thing he truly wants - the warmth of Hugh's smile, the sound of his laughter, the linger of his touch - and it cannot be bought.  
  
"Am I able to give the chips back?" He asks. "I would rather continue the game with companions than money."  
  
"Hell," Rios says, something welcoming in his voice,"I don't know about companions, but I'm always up for another round with friends."  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Some hours later, after laughter and poker and joy, the crew say their goodnights and leave to their respective rooms. Hugh remains behind.  
  
"Would you mind walking with me to my room?" He asks. Elnor does not need to be asked twice.  
  
They walk the short distance amiably, but Elnor senses there is more to it. "Is everything alright?"  
  
"Oh, yes, it's just," Hugh stops, and Elnor stops with him. "I wanted to ask you a favor, but I don't want you to feel obliged to say yes."  
  
Elnor is likely going to say yes anyway. He cannot imagine a situation where he would not do anything for Hugh.  
  
"Would you be willing to teach me how to fight?" Hugh asks.  
  
Elnor was not prepared for that. Hugh does not like violence, he refuses to carry even a phaser. His beliefs lay in the power of words and actions.  
  
"Why? Do you feel your life in danger?" He asks, now worried.  
  
"No, nothing like that," Hugh reassures. "I've just been thinking lately. About what we all have been through, about what is to come. In my experience, these things tend to get worse before they get better, and I think it would be beneficial if I learned to defend myself."  
  
"I will defend you." Elnor isn't sure what more he can do to convince Hugh of that.  
  
"I know, Elnor," Hugh says, and the lights of the _La Sirena_ gleam gently off the implants along his face. "I trust you with my life."  
  
It is an honor, and Elnor's breath catches in his throat from it. "Then why?" he manages, when he so desperately wants to cup Hugh's cheek.  
  
Hugh smiles with an edge of self-deprecation. "What if there was an altercation and we were separated? Against an enemy, I'm not much use when I'm not on a Borg cube."  
  
"I would find you." Elnor says.  
  
"What if Soji, or Picard needed you?" Hugh asks.  
  
Elnor takes Hugh's hand because he is confident enough to do so, because he wants Hugh to believe the weight of his words. "As my Bonded, your safety would come first." In this he is resolute.  
  
Hugh looks... not uncomfortable, and he does not move away when Elnor shifts ever so closer. "As your... Bonded," Hugh says the word as if it is made of glass, "I wouldn't want to force you to choose. That's why I'd like you to teach me, so if the worse does happen, I'm not a liability, and you don't have to worry so much."  
  
Elnor can see Hugh's point. The crew, his friends, Elnor would protect them all if it were within his power. Still. "Are you sure?"  
  
"I would rather use empathy in the place of violence, but I don't think I can fend off Zhat Vash with a speech." Hugh looks up at him and asks again, "Will you teach me?"  
  
How can Elnor possibly say no?  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Hugh lays on the floor mat in the center of the cargo bay. His chest rises and falls in rapid succession as he tries to catch his breath. A bead of sweat falls from the crown of Hugh's dark hair, and Elnor follows it down his face, and then further down the lines of his neck. The only reason he has not been caught is Hugh's eyes are closed.  
  
"I think," Hugh breathes, "my age is finally catching up to me."  
  
This is the third time they have met to train, and Elnor has honestly been impressed. Of course, even in this, Hugh cannot fail to impress him. Hugh is obviously not a fighter, but he clearly takes care of his body. The challenge comes from inexperience, not negligence. And certainly not age.  
  
"You are doing very well. Qowat Milat discipline is not easy."  
  
Hugh opens an eye and looks at him. "That's kind of you to say, but don't think I haven't noticed you haven't broken a sweat."  
  
"I have also been studying diligently for fifteen years." Elnor remembers being just as exhausted at Hugh is now, but determined all the same. "You have not."  
  
Hugh groans and sits up. He makes a face as he pulls at his sweat-soaked shirt. Even when training, Hugh wears long sleeves and a high collar. Since first meeting Hugh, Elnor has never seen him in anything less.  
  
Elnor picks up a canteen of water and brings it over to Hugh. "It might be more comfortable for you to wear something lighter," he suggests.  
  
Hugh takes the canteen graciously from Elnor, but there is a sudden tautness to his shoulders. "I'm fine with what I have," Hugh says easily, and Elnor thinks of poker, of pretending.  
  
"It would help," Elnor tries, "Less constriction. And it is better to see how you move, that you are completing the forms correctly." He gestures to his own sleeveless tunic.  
  
"It's fine, Elnor."  
  
"You may borrow something of mine, if you like. At least until we stop for supplies, or a replicator pattern can be made - "  
  
" _Elnor_ ," Hugh stresses. It must be partly due to the fatigue of training, because Hugh has never been short with him, but it seems more likely Elnor's suspicions confirmed. He has ventured too close, unwittingly threatened something tender.  
  
Because Hugh stops, then gives Elnor a smile that is not a smile. It is so much worse when Hugh does it, the thought that Hugh must pretend to be happy a spoiling pit in Elnor's stomach. "I said I'm fine. Please let it go."  
  
Maybe he should, but Elnor does not want to let it go. "Are you ashamed of your body?" he asks bluntly, already sure of the answer.  
  
Hugh closes his eyes for a long while and stands up. He wants to leave, or at the very least, leave this line of questioning. "Elnor, it's getting late..."  
  
So it is true. It is strange to think, but then again, Elnor knows what he sees when he looks at Hugh. The only shame here is that he does not see it when he looks at himself.  
  
"Elnor-"  
  
"You should not be," Elnor states with all the sincerity he has. "You are beautiful."  
  
Ah. Perhaps too much sincerity. The tips of his ears are undoubtedly green, but the truth is the truth. He will not praise the Moon it's light only to shy away.  
  
Hugh's eyes widen in surprise, either at the outburst or the sentiment, and the canteen slips from his fingers. It lands with a soft thud on the mat.  
  
"That's," Hugh coughs delicately, his face going red,"That's very polite of you."  
  
Hugh does not believe him. A sense of frustration builds, and Elnor feels the line of his mouth pulling down in response. "It is not politeness, it is the truth. Why do you deny this?"  
  
Somehow, Hugh's face goes darker. "Well, beauty is objective - "  
  
"And you do not see this in yourself. I would like to know why. I want to help."  
  
Hug smiles humorlessly. "I appreciate that Elnor, but it isn't something you can help with."  
  
"I would like to try anyway." He can see that Hugh is not going to agree. He will wave off Elnor's concern, will continue to pretend there is nothing wrong. "How can you not see it?" He asks a little desperately.  
  
Hugh fidgets like he is stuck. His eyes look to Elnor but cannot hold his gaze and fall away. He looks uncomfortable. Elnor has _made_ Hugh uncomfortable. He is ready to ask forgiveness, to say that Hugh owes him no explanation...  
  
...But then Hugh exhales, something deep, with great weight, and slowly he brings up a hand to his own face. His fingers ghost along the implants above his brow, under his eye, like following a memory.  
  
"These... they aren't just here," he says. Hugh's hand starts to trail down his neck, but instead tangles into the collar of his shirt.  
  
"There are certain implants that can't be removed, implants the Borg are dependent on." Hugh's grip on his collar tightens, as if wary of what is beneath. "I was not the first to be reclaimed after assimilation- that would be Picard."  
  
Picard never told Elnor the stories of Locutus, but he had heard whispers spoken in both awe and fear: Captain Jean-Luc Picard, the man taken by the Borg. The man who came back. A human who not even the Borg could conquer.  
  
"But I was one of the first," Hugh continues, "There were countless surgeries, many experimental in nature. I suppose at the time I was naively hopeful that maybe I would wind up like Picard, where no one would be able to tell I ever was Borg."  
  
Hugh tries to smile, but it comes off unfinished. He is close enough to touch, but Elnor does not think it will be welcome. "As you can see, that was not the case. I had been Borg for too long. More was done to me than to Picard. Implants embedded into bone, threaded through major arteries. I have many scars from what was removed, almost as many from what is still here, and... for fear of sounding vain, it's very difficult for me to look at."  
  
Elnor wants to sooth this pain of Hugh's. But it is old, and very deep. This is not a problem he can fix with a sword, but he can still help. Or at least try to.  
  
In a quick motion, Elnor removes his tunic.  
  
Hugh stares at Elnor for a moment then does his best to look anywhere else. "Elnor, what- what are you doing?"  
  
"Look here." In a way Elnor would describe as shyly, Hugh does. He sees the jagged scar Elnor points to along his collar bone. "This was from Romulus. When the planet was tearing itself apart, my family home collapsed."  
  
Elnor remembers the earth breaking apart under his feet, still hears the frightened screams. He had been scared, so very scared, but he pushes past it. "My mother pushed my through a broken window. It has been the only way out and she could not fit. Our neighbor carried me away, even as I cried not to go. I did not even realize there was glass or blood until a medic on the transport ship removed it."  
  
Elnor moves his hand and finds the thin scar along his bicep. "My teacher, Zani, gave me this," Hugh looks aghast before Elnor clarifies, "I was young. Angry. Picard had left, and Zani told me things I did not want to hear. I disrespected her, challenged her. I raised my sword to her and lashed out."  
  
No one had intervened. Zani would not let them. "I cut her robes, and only because she let me. She did not once fight back until I was in danger of hurting myself. She deflected my attack, throwing my sword from my hands, and it cut my arm. Even then, she still forgave me." Zani had held him, an angry, sobbing child. She held him until he had no tears left, and continued to hold him long after.  
  
He moves across to the left of his chest to the waxy pale green of an old burn. "I wear this with pride. I was with one of my sisters, Kirree, outside the main town when we were attacked by three men. I am not sure what their goal was, but my sister was knocked to the ground while I engaged with two of them." They had smelled of the roots some burn and inhale to escape their own minds.  
  
"I broke away when I saw one point a phaser at her and got in his way. It felt like fire, but I do not regret it. It was enough of a distraction for my sister to regain herself and quickly rid us of the three." It was the first time he had ever defended another, a brief taste of being _qalankhkai_.  
  
Elnor holds Hugh's gaze. "I know they are not the same, but I show you to say this: scars are stories. They make up who you are. You should not have to hide yourself."  
  
"But your stories are memories. All I see in my scars is pain, suffering- all that I did before I was Hugh." Hugh says, and there is a strange longing to his voice, "You have childhood, family, growing. I don't."  
  
"Your eye," It is so striking to Elnor, and the first thing he thinks to go to. "What does it mean to you?"  
  
Hugh quirks an eyebrow, the abruptness catching him off-guard, but humors Elnor nonetheless. "I had an ocular device," he says, "It was removed."  
  
"And is that all you see when you look at it now?"  
  
Hugh actually takes a moment to consider, and slowly, a wistful smile appears, no matter how faint. "I suppose, when I see it, I think of my friend Geordi. This is the same model he uses as his eyes. He recommended it to me."  
  
That is good, exactly what Elnor was hoping to show. "Even in sorrow, solace may be found. They are your stories. You may interpret them how you wish."  
  
But still, Hugh's face clouds. "I don't think I have enough good memories to re-contextualize the bad." Hugh brings his arms up, as if to hold himself, but seems to realize what he is doing and stops. "I have lived a half-life."  
  
The aborted action cuts as frigid steel, the words needlelike in their precision, and Elnor cannot take it.  
  
With a clear purpose, Elnor steps forward and wraps his arms around Hugh. He moves deliberately, so that Hugh may pull away if he does not want this, but he stays. That in itself all the acknowledgment Elnor needs to know this was the correct action. Hugh's arms remain loosely at his sides, but that is fine. Elnor holds Hugh gently to himself, thinking of Zani and her serenity.  
  
"I will help you," Elnor says against dark hair, "Each one will be given new meaning. They are your strength. They are what you have overcome."  
  
"I..." Though Elnor does not hold him tightly, Hugh's words come out rough, "I have many, many scars, Elnor."  
  
"Each one," Elnor swears to Hugh, to the universe, to himself.  
  
Gingerly, Hugh brings up his arms around Elnor's back. There is a distinct point when Hugh accepts Elnor's embrace, feels safe enough to relax into it, and Elnor is emboldened enough to hold him just that much closer.  
  
Hugh's head rests just underneath Elnor's chin. Elnor catches the occasional thread of silver amongst his hair, like starlight in the nightsky. Elnor wants to run a hand through it, wants to watch the gleam against his fingers.  
  
But he cannot, regardless of how perfectly Hugh fits against him. Elnor's heart throbs dully in his side with the knowledge, and he does not know how much more of this he can endure.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
It is with a hesitant hand that Elnor presses the signal outside the door awaiting entry. It beeps, and from the other side is a call of, "Enter."  
  
The doors open and Elnor steps into the room. For a simulation, everything seems so real. The brick walls lined with artwork. The trinkets and books upon the grand wooden desk. The vast green fields beyond the large windows. Picard's vineyard is somehow exactly like Elnor imagined it to be, yet even more than was described to him all those years ago.  
  
Picard himself sits at his desk, a book in his hand, and he greets Elnor with a smile. "Elnor, how are you?"  
  
Elnor would like to say well, but that is very far from the truth. "I am... troubled. I would seek your wisdom, if I may."  
  
Picard brows furrow, but he closes his book and offers the chair across him. "Of course. I can't promise wisdom, but I will do my best."  
  
Elnor sits, and his hands bunch the fabric at his knees. "How do you tell someone you care for them?"  
  
Picard gives no indication if the question surprises him. "I guess that would depend on how you care about them. You can care about people in many different ways."  
  
"Deeply," Elnor answers honestly, and his heart aches. "More than I have cared for another."  
  
Picard hums in thought and brings his hands together on top of his desk. "And how do you know?"  
  
His gut reaction is to take the question as an insult, another instance of poor, stupid Elnor having no idea what he is talking about. But Picard asks without judgment, and Elnor watches dust as it fades in and out of the sunlight streaming from the windows.  
  
"I admire them. Their kindness and strength... it is breathtaking," Just saying it feels like the air around them thins, "They are intelligent, and they listen. They care so very much, and I am wholly taken by it."  
  
"You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?"  
  
Elnor nods. "They are never far form my mind. I can do little but think about it."  
  
Picard leans forward. "I ask this not to offend you, Elnor, but I do think it's important. Do you think your oath may be influencing how you feel?"  
  
Though Picard keeps vague, his mention of Elnor's oath is enough to confirm that he knows of who Elnor speaks. Elnor would be a fool indeed to think Picard would not figure it out.  
  
"I know what my duty is, and I know how I feel. I am not confusing one for the other." Though he has been qalankhkai to only one before Hugh, Elnor knows there is a difference. He bound his sword to Hugh as Qowat Milat, but he bound his heart as Elnor.  
  
"And I believe you," Picard says. Not that Elnor needed it, but his acknowledgment is comforting to hear. "Does this person know how you feel?"  
  
"No," Elnor admits with the familiar nervousness at thought, "I do not want to burden them."  
  
"Oh, Elnor. Your feelings are not a burden." Elnor wants to believe that, he truly does, but what else would they be?  
  
"What do I do?" He asks, looking to Picard, almost as if a boy again, trying to understand concepts far out of his reach. It is like an abyss of his own making, for what is further away than the Moon, and still Elnor finds himself pursuing it.  
  
Picard's eyes reflect the light of his years, and his smile is one of empathy. "I wish I could tell you, Elnor. Wisdom comes from making mistakes and learning from them. But when it comes to matters of the heart, it's complicated, and people often make the same mistakes over and over again. I myself am no exception."  
  
So the answer is there is no answer. Elnor looks down at his lap. He had hoped that Picard, of anyone, would know, but... no. He is stuck in this dark place where every smile from Hugh is a razor-sharp gift.  
  
"What I can tell you, Elnor," Picard says, "is that sometimes we must take a leap of faith, and hope to make it to the other side. Even if they do not feel the same, do you honestly believe this person would shun you if you told them?"  
  
"No." Not even in his worst imaginings does Elnor think Hugh would be cruel. But Elnor does not fear cruelty. He fears the disbelief, the sympathy, the _Oh, Elnor, I'm so sorry..._  
  
"Then why not try?"  
  
Because Elnor already knows the answer, and to hear it from Hugh is an agony unimaginable. "Because I am not enough."  
  
The sound of a chair as it is pushed back, and a strong hand grips Elnor's shoulder. Elnor does not realize his eyes are wet until he looks up at Picard and feels a tear fall.  
  
"Elnor," and Picard's voice, never less then steady, shakes, "You are more than enough." He speaks with deep-seeded guilt. "Your feelings, you happiness, are not less than any other persons. You should tell him. You will be better for it, even if the outcome isn't all you want."  
  
Elnor swallows thickly and ducks his head again. His relationship with Picard is still difficult. Picard always regards him with an edge of remorse, the neglected responsibility placed upon himself of promising a young Romulan boy a new home, and Elnor has forgiven him as best he can, maturity leading to understanding that one man cannot save an entire people.  
  
There are times where they are still careful around one another, but then there are times like now, where Elnor can take comfort in Picard's company like he did not so long ago and without the hurt.  
  
Picard lets Elnor stay in his study as long as he likes. Elnor uses the time to ruminate, Picard by his side as a solid presence, the hand on his shoulder an anchor, and regardless the directions his thoughts take, they all end at the same conclusion:  
  
Picard is right.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Elnor busies himself with moving supplies purchased earlier in the day to make the space he and Hugh need for his training. Elnor decided he would tell Hugh, at some point, preferably far into the future. The decision should have given him focus, but instead his attention is distracted, his thoughts restless, and dread eats away at his stomach.  
  
"Good evening," says Hugh from behind. Elnor jumps and nearly drops the canister he was stacking. He knows Hugh noticed.  
  
"Sorry, I did not hear you come in," Elnor keeps his voice calm and readjusts his grip on the canister. "I am almost done."  
  
"Alright," Hugh says, and Elnor walks another canister over to the stack. Hugh stands awkwardly off to the side. Elnor catches the movement out of the corner of his eye as Hugh reaches up to the zip of his top and removes it.  
  
Elnor does not stare. He continues to stack the last canister.  
  
Only when Hugh turns away to place his folded top onto a nearby crate, does Elnor steal a glance. Hugh is not bare, he wears a sleeveless shirt, but there is such an anxious hunch to his shoulders that he might as well be.  
  
There are scars- multiple slivers and knots along pale skin. In some places, there is a hint of something inorganic underneath, and in others the black metal of an implant. At the base of Hugh's neck, Elnor sees the top of circular ports, and remembers Seven in the queencell taking control of the Borg cube, the tendrils that pierced her back.  
  
All that power, and Hugh never considered taking it for himself.  
  
Hugh turns back around and Elnor looks away. Elnor wants to keep looking, but Hugh has trusted him with this. Nothing should feel so wonderful yet hurt so much.  
  
Elnor wipes the dirt from his hands onto his pants and faces Hugh with the most encouraging smile he can. The tension in Hugh's shoulders loosens.  
  
"Are you ready?" Elnor asks, and Hugh nods, confidence returning.  
  
"Good." Elnor ties his hair back and they begin.  
  
They have graduated from practicing moves to exchanging hand-to-hand. Hugh's time as Borg makes his strength comparable to the average Romulan, despite being human, which puts Elnor as ease that he will not accidentally injure him. Still, he keeps himself firmly in check, just in case.  
  
They go slow. Attack, block, attack, block. It is like a dance, the gentle sway and glide of water. Elnor only stops to correct Hugh's form, careful that his hands do not linger as he adjusts Hugh's arm, or changes his stance.  
  
Hugh's skin is notably cool, or maybe Elnor is too warm. He makes sure not to touch longer than is necessary.  
  
"You seem distracted," Hugh notes, and Elnor wishes he could deny it. "Is everything alright?"  
  
Elnor cannot say yes. He cannot lie. Instead he moves Hugh's hand into position so that if he were to strike with it, the action would not break his wrist.  
  
"Elnor," Hugh grabs his hand, "You can talk to me."  
  
Any words die in his throat, and Hugh's expression shifts to worry. "You've let me confide in you so often, you can come to me too. I'll help if I can."  
  
Elnor tries to smile but it does not quite work. If it were anything else, Elnor would speak to him, would relish the kindness.  
  
"Am..." Hugh tries, "Am I making you uncomfortable?"  
  
Yes, but not in any way that is Hugh's fault. Elnor pushes through the turmoil of his emotions. He will not let Hugh stand there and think he has done wrong.  
  
"No," he manages to get out, "I simply have much on my mind. I do not mean to worry you."  
  
"Would you talk to me about it?" Hugh asks, and Elnor suddenly feels tired. He told himself he would do it, did he not?  
  
"Yes," he says, "but after we are done training." That way, if Hugh wants to leave, he will not miss the rest of the lesson.  
  
Appeased, Hugh lets Elnor's hand slip from his and returns to his stance.  
  
They continue, though Hugh's eyes seem intently focused on him now. Elnor is powerless against them. He does his best to clear his mind, but it is an insurmountable task. In every corner there is the looming cloud of dread, and just beyond the crushing weight of heartache.  
  
What Elnor hoped to put off until he was ready was waiting for him at the end of these steps.  
  
_That's very kind of you, Elnor, but..._  
  
Attack.  
  
Block.  
  
Swing.  
  
An expression of sympathy, but with cold, unfamiliar distance between them.  
  
Step.  
  
Block.  
  
Attack.  
  
_I appreciate your feelings, Elnor, but..._  
  
Reposition.  
  
Attack.  
  
Block.  
  
Fewer conversations. A silence comparable to the vastness of space.  
  
Step.  
  
Swing.  
  
Attack.  
  
This is no longer the gentle ebb and flow of calm water. They are still a river, but only Elnor knows that they are about to go over a waterfall. He can see the jagged rocks that await.  
  
Block.  
  
Step.  
  
Swi-  
  
Elnor is not paying attention. Hugh moves his arm out, and with his body on muscle memory, Elnor side-steps as if in a real fight and uses his foot to swipe Hugh's legs out from under him.  
  
Like being doused in ice water, Elnor snaps back to the here, to what is going on now. Hugh is going to land on his back, hard, and Elnor thinks of the ports along his spine. Quickly, he moves forward to grab Hugh before he falls, wrapping an arm around Hugh's shoulders and using his other to brace them as they hit the mat.  
  
Everything is fine, but the frustration and embarrassment burn."I am sorry, I- I was not..." Elnor finds himself trailing off. The storm of his mind quiets.  
  
He is very close to Hugh.  
  
Of course he is. Elnor has an arm around him, effectively holding Hugh to his chest. But somewhere along their fall, Hugh's hands latched onto Elnor's upper arms. Likely a reflex, but Elnor feels locked into place.  
  
All he can see are Hugh's eyes. Wide brown and blue. Elnor looks, and looks, and _looks_. He cannot look away. His heart beats impossibly fast in his side. There is no water, but he must be drowning. He cannot breathe.  
  
Hugh's eyes get closer. Elnor is not sure how when they already threaten to consume him.  
  
"Elnor..." Hugh's whisper is a caress across his lips - how did he get so close? - and it beckons him.  
  
It is less than nothing to bridge the few centimeters between them, but when Elnor's lips meet Hugh's, it becomes everything.  
  
Soft. Hugh's lips are so very soft, each movement flower-like in it's delicacy. Elnor tilts his head, desperate to get closer still. Every brush feels like fire, and Elnor deepens the kiss to follow it. He runs his tongue along Hugh's bottom lip, because now he _wants_ , and Hugh's response is a star-shattering gasp.  
  
The blankness of Elnor's mind is interrupted, the fire cools, because what if Hugh does not want this? What if he -  
  
But the hands on his arms tighten, preventing him from pulling away. In fact, they pull him close, until he and Hugh are chest-to-chest, and Elnor has no where to go but forward.  
  
He licks into Hugh's mouth, the taste indescribable, and the sound Hugh makes shakes Elnor to his core. Very quickly, he needs more and is not willing to let go of what he already has.  
  
Elnor refuses to break the kiss, even as his lungs burn. He maneuvers them so that Hugh lays on the mat with Elnor on top of him, and then Elnor's hands are free to cup his face and hold his side. In return, Hugh wraps his arms around Elnor's back, pressing them together until there is no space left between them.  
  
Somehow it is too much and still not enough. Elnor moans as their tongue twine together, not unlike their dance before, but far more desirable. One of Hugh's hands moves up his back and into his hair, freeing it of the tie. Static fizzles all over, turns to lightening where he and Hugh touch. He loses himself to it, until he has to give up Hugh's mouth and take in air.  
  
He does not move back far, not that he would dream of such a thing, and not that Hugh's hold on him would allow it.  
  
Hugh's face is flushed as he too catches his breath. His lips are pink and glistening, and they tempt Elnor again, but Hugh watches him with something similar to awe, anticipation, and Elnor does not want to look away. He moves his hand and traces Hugh's lip with his thumb, and feels them curl into a smile.  
  
Maybe he should say something, but there are no words to describe what he feels. Nothing he knows would be worthy of Hugh in this moment.  
  
The hand in his hair draws him back down into a kiss, and it fills an empty place within him. They kiss, and kiss again, until Elnor places a kiss to the corner his Hugh's mouth, then the underside of his jaw, and then his neck.  
  
Hugh shivers as Elnor grazes along his throat. He gasps into the shell of Elnor's ear as Elnor finds the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Greedily, Elnor wants that sound again, and takes the sensitive skin between his teeth.  
  
The reaction is instant. Hugh pushes against him, body against body, and holds on as if afraid of letting go. It is so much, and Elnor wants all of it. The hand not at Hugh's face finds the edge of his shirt and slips underneath. His fingertips trail over Hugh's side and across his stomach, exploring every dip and curve.  
  
He continues up until his fingers catch the cold edge of metal. Hugh jerks and Elnor already moves his hand away, but Hugh's mouth is at his ear.  
  
"No, please don't stop."  
  
Relief is not strong enough of a word. Elnor keeps his hand steady yet careful. He will show Hugh that all of him is cherished. Every scar, every implant - it is all Hugh, and more dear to Elnor than he knows. But Elnor will tell him with every kiss and touch until Hugh believes him.  
  
If it takes hours, if it takes years, Elnor will give Hugh everything he needs.  
  
Hugh arches into him as Elnor's nails skim over a nipple, his hand finding it's destination over Hugh's heart, beating just as wildly as Elnor's own. Elnor let's go of the spot on Hugh's neck, now purple, and Hugh takes his face with both hands and drags him up into another kiss. Determined, messy, perfect.  
  
The fire turns to molten heat as Hugh grinds up into him. Elnor can only groan against Hugh's mouth and match him. Elnor thinks he could do this forever. Touch Hugh, kiss Hugh, taste Hugh. A never-ending sea that is just Hugh, Hugh, _Hugh..._  
  
"Hello! What seems to be the nature of your - Oh, my!"  
  
Elnor sits up at the sudden intrusion so fast his head spins. Above them is the EMH. He stares at them, mouth agape. Somehow, it is worse that he is a direct simulation of Captain Rios. Elnor supposes they should be lucky it was not the captain to find them here.  
  
The EMH continues to stare, dumbfounded. Elnor feels himself flush green for the wrong reasons now, and Hugh hides his face behind his hands.  
  
"I.. I'm terribly sorry," The EMH stutters, "I detected severely elevated heart-rates, and, erhm, well..."  
  
He clears his throat. Why a hologram would need to clear his throat, Elnor will never know. "Well, I see that everything is... fine. Yes, quite fine! Though, might I suggest the next time you wish to engage in such activities, there are better places to do so than the cargo bay."  
  
Elnor nods. From behind his hands, Hugh nods too.  
  
The EMH places his hands on his hips. "Right then. Good! If you'll excuse me gentlemen." And he phases out of the room.  
  
It is too quiet now, the fire well and truly gone. Elnor is not sure what to do, the shock of interruption leaving him at a loss. Worry plays at the fringes of his mind, but then Hugh laughs.  
  
Muffled by his hands, it is more like giggling. Hugh peaks up at Elnor from between his fingers. "That was very embarrassing."  
  
"It was," Elnor agrees, and it sends Hugh into another fit of laughter. Hugh's elation is catching, and Elnor cannot help but laugh with him. Everything is right.  
  
Eventually, Elnor gets up, bringing Hugh with him. They stand together and let the laughter fade away, hands joined. Hugh's hair is mussed, wild in a way it usually isn't, and there is a purple mark along his neck, stark against pale skin.  
  
Hugh is beautiful like this, a lightness to him Elnor does not think was there before. Did he do that? Did he brighten the Moon?  
  
Elnor still is not sure what to say, but Hugh is there.  
  
"Would you come back to my room?" He asks with a hint of uncertainty, as if there was a chance Elnor could say no. Elnor answers him with a kiss as sweet as Hugh deserves, and Hugh leads them out of the cargo bay, fingers entwined.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
"What of this one?"  
  
They lie in Hugh's bed. It really is not large enough for two people, but Elnor lays against the wall and Hugh lays against him. They are still in their clothes from training, but Elnor is would not have it any other way. They have been like this for hours, wrapped together, exchanging words and fleeting touches.  
  
Elnor holds Hugh's right arm, tracing the scars around it. They are methodical, nearly geometric. If Elnor did not know better, he would think they were decorative.  
  
"My arm is a prosthetic," Hugh says. Sometimes he answers, sometimes he does not, and Elnor never pushes him when he prefers to stay silent. "It starts just below my elbow. The Borg often remove redundant limbs and replace them with tools, or at the very least intergrade advanced devices into them."  
  
Elnor studies the arm and hand closer. He would have never known it was anything other than flesh and blood had Hugh said nothing. He guides Hugh's hand over and kisses each finger.  
  
Hugh shifts to look up at Elnor. "You don't have to do that," he says, but Elnor has done this with four other scars, and each time it makes Hugh blush.  
  
"I want to," Elnor says, just as he has with the others, and finishes with a kiss to the palm. "There, a better memory."  
  
Hugh sighs and twists around in Elnor's arms, which is an impressive feat considering their lack of space. "Why me?" He asks, bracing himself on Elnor's chest, his hair in many directions.  
  
It is a simple question. Vast, yes, but simple. Elnor is surprised Hugh asks. "What do you mean? It is you."  
  
Hugh tilts his head, watching Elnor carefully. "I'm not much, Elnor. So much of me was taken away. Cut out. Replaced. I just want you to understand, and I... I want to be enough for you."  
  
So strange for a fear that has plagued Elnor most his life to be said aloud by another. Elnor cups Hugh's face with both hands, his thumb brushing softly across his cheek. "To think the Moon could look down at those below and hope it is enough."  
  
Confusion at Elnor's words paints Hugh's face, but Elnor does not give him time to ask further. "Your soul is kind and noble, and your actions only reflect that. You speak with such patience and passion that I would listen to you and never tire. I have never known another like you."  
  
Hugh stares at Elnor as if he does not believe him to be real. "Do you really feel that?"  
  
"I care for you," Because it is true. Terrifyingly, magnificently true. "I have for some time. It was my fear that... that _I_ would not be enough for _you_." Despite the way Hugh looks at him, the way Hugh touches him, that fear still nestles in his gut.  
  
"That is the most ridic-" Hugh starts, then cuts himself off with a shake of his head. He slides his hand down to Elnor's side, directly over his heart.  
  
"You are the most compassionate person I have ever met," Hugh says, keeping his gaze with an intensity Elnor has only seen on the Borg ship. "Your inquisitiveness is charming. You are always so eager to learn and never to judge. You are so brave, and strong, and- and you are more than enough. So much more. Certainly more than I thought I would ever have."  
  
The light in Elnor's chest threatens to burst. To hear these words, to hear Hugh say them... it is... it is...  
  
"I would give you my heart, if you would have it." Because it is all Elnor has, all Hugh deserves.  
  
Hugh's eyes glitter; the brown so warm, the blue so stunning, and they are for _him_. "Only if you would have mine."  
  
Elnor kisses him. Their lips move together until they are both breathless, until their hands wander and say what words cannot. There is a specific word for this, and Elnor knows it. It is a pure truth, but Elnor will keep it close for now, even as he knows it is what he feels, even as he is sure it is what Hugh feels too.  
  
There will be time.


End file.
